


Chime the Hour

by Cesare



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, Dirty Talk, Domination/submission, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:38:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John makes Rodney relax. Stands alone but can also be read as a sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/138460">Stars Against the Sun</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chime the Hour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skaredykat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skaredykat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Stars Against the Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/138460) by [Cesare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare). 



Every so often, John just happens to run into Radek during scheduled inspections of puddlejumper maintenance. Of course, on those occasions, as the expedition's top pilot, John feels obliged to join Radek in looking over the jumpers. Sometimes, coincidentally, he has a packet of sunflower seeds or dried cranberries with him, and it's only polite to share them with Radek.

John usually waits until half the packet is gone to casually inquire about the latest news from science and research. He's not really sure if he bribes Radek to get the gossip, or to keep Radek from laughing in his face for asking about it in such a contrived, transparent way.

He gets the news he needs, though, every time.

"This thing that's got Rodney's running himself into the ground," says John, "figuring out how Atlantis uses shields in hyperspace: what's the status on that?"

"He is stuck and will not admit it," says Radek. They're hanging out in Jumper Six, the jumper that has the most comfortable benches in back, even though Rodney swears all the jumpers are exactly the same. "So instead he punishes himself, overworking on other problems that he should be delegating, between these struggles with the shield question."

Maybe the bribe is for the armchair psychology. Radek knows Rodney pretty well.

"That's not crucial to anything, though," John frowns. "I mean, the city's shields held up fine in hyperspace on our trip back to Pegasus. I know it drives him nuts that the shield uses less power than we'd expect for the size, but..."

"But don't look a gift horse in the teeth?" Radek asks, baring his.

"Nah, it's just, it's been a solid two weeks of this, and there's no immediate need for it. So why's he burning himself out on it?"

"Most physicists do their best work earlier in their careers," says Radek. "We received several younger scientists last time the Daedalus came. Maybe Rodney thinks he has something to prove."

"I can't have him wearing himself out over an ego thing," John says. "May have to convince him take a day off."

"Please," Radek nods. "But I wish you luck. No one can reason with him when he's like this."

John grins. "I can be unreasonable."

*

"Coming to bed?" John asks, hands on Rodney's shoulders, standing behind him.

"What?" Rodney glances up only for a second. "Oh; hm. Not just yet. Soon."

John looks at the monitor. It's the same mess of variables that Rodney's been staring at for weeks now.

He leans and puts his mouth against the sweet spot just behind Rodney's ear. He feels Rodney's shoulders flex in reaction, and holds back a smile. "How soon?"

"Um... very soon?" That's promising, but Rodney's hands haven't left the keyboard.

Now it's a sigh John's holding back. He knows how he could get what he wants; if he drags his nails lightly across Rodney's nape, or rests his palm over the notch of Rodney's collarbone, Rodney will follow him anywhere. But John doesn't like the idea that he needs to pull out special moves just to win Rodney's attention.

Not yet, anyway.

"Okay," John says. "I'm heading to bed," leaving the ball in Rodney's court.

He falls asleep alone.

*

In the morning, they share a shower, trading sleepy handjobs before breaking to clean up, and Rodney makes his usual face when John brushes his teeth while the water's rinsing the soap away. Normal start to a normal day, but when Rodney shrugs into his uniform jacket, John steps in close, smoothing the jacket over his chest and commanding his focus.

"You've been riding this hyperspace problem pretty hard," John says.

"It's crucial to our understanding of the city's shields," Rodney starts; John kisses him, just a touch to Rodney's lips to stave off the barrage of technobabble.

"I do listen at staff meetings." He adds, "Mostly!" at Rodney's eyeroll. "I'm not arguing with the project, but you're pushing the needle into the red over something that's not time-sensitive."

"No one has any valid reason to complain about my performance," Rodney says, stiffening. "If anyone's complaining it's probably because I've been fulfilling my supervisory duties _more_ often, not less, and you wouldn't believe how much some of these projects are lagging--"

John's worked hard to develop a stare that will even work to silence a running-on Rodney, and he deploys it strategically now. Rodney glares back, but he shuts up and listens; John tells him, "No one's complaining. Except me, 'cause I've barely seen you the last couple of weeks."

"Oh," Rodney looks surprised, like it never occurred to him that John might miss him. "Well... we could... do something for the next rest day?"

"That's more than two weeks away," says John, shooting for neutral. "And you spent the last rest day glued to your tablet." Okay, he's missing neutral by a mile. "I think you should take a break from this, just a day even. Time away from the problem might give you a chance to come at it fresh and make more progress."

"I know how to manage my workflow. And this is important," Rodney insists, but John recognizes the tone, stubborn and entrenched. Translation: it's important for Rodney to be right.

"All right," John says. "I mean, usually when I tell you something's important, it takes you about ten minutes max to lick it," Rodney looks infuriated and only gets more irate when John flashes him a smirk. "I'll take your word for it, this is complicated and it's important and you need to spend the time on it. I'm just telling you now, if you log another week of eighteen hour days, I'm going to chain you to the bed and you're taking a day off."

"Please, I'll have that and six other impossible things figured out by then," Rodney says scornfully, but even annoyed and defensive, he responds when John leans in and meets him in a kiss, brings his hands to John's waist, snakes one under John's shirt and rubs the backs of his fingers against the line of hair down John's belly.

It's one of those little moves peculiar to Rodney, exactly the kind of thing that makes John miss him like crazy when they don't have time for each other.

"Okay," John says. "See you tonight," but he goes to bed alone that night, and the next.

*

It's been a week, and John's nothing if not a man of his word. It takes all the stealth he's ever practiced to get everything set up without waking Rodney, who's not a light sleeper but also not a particularly sound one.

Once everything's in place, John gets Rodney onto his back in the middle of the bed and straddles him, watching him wake up.

"Remember what I said about chaining you to the bed?" he asks, with deliberately obnoxious cheer.

"What?" Rodney peers at him, disoriented.

John takes his wrists in each hand. Rodney sharpens fast at that, blinking big-eyed up at him.

"I cleared you for a day off," John says, "and I made plans. I'm going to get started; tell me to stop and I will. Okay?"

Rodney turns his wrists in John's hands, not as if he's trying to get away but like he's trying to feel the extent of John's grip. The flush of sleep is fading to the more concentrated flush of arousal.

"Okay," he says. "What plans?"

John smiles, positions his arm and snaps on the manacle, locking it on. Now Rodney's eyes _really_ get huge.

"Where," he starts, and then, "How long--?" but John's fastening the other one and Rodney's too busy staring and biting his lip to wonder.

John's relieved. He really doesn't want to go into the incredible pain in the ass it took to get several feet of heavy chains and manacles made in the first place, let alone smuggled into Atlantis without anyone knowing. By now everyone knows they're together, and John doesn't really think anyone would care that they're kinky, but Rodney's still a little embarrassed and secretive about his predilections, and though it's not going to bug him if anyone knows, John figures it's nobody's business.

He slides down the bed and gets the other set, watching happily as Rodney's dick noticeably hardens at the jingle of the chains and the feel of the metal against his skin. John drags Rodney's boxers off before he locks on the ankle cuffs. They're padded on the inside; that was the biggest problem John ran into, getting someone to make metal restraints that'd be safe and comfortable.

Maybe Rodney would find it hotter to have the bare metal against his skin, but John's not taking any chances with Rodney's circulation. They've agreed that no matter what they'll always stop right away if Rodney feels so much as a tingle in his hands.

The key is squat, mostly a square with a couple of prongs sticking out to turn the mechanism. John shows it to Rodney and puts it in the recess in the wall where one of those funky Ancient wall decorations used to be.

Rodney makes sure he can reach the key, and feels it curiously before he puts it back down. His breath's coming fast and unsteady. He tests each chain and manacle, how they feel on his wrists and ankles, where they're connected to the bed frame, the weight of the chains, and he gets a little more flushed every second.

It's already worth all the trouble.

"These are really, ah, sturdy," says Rodney, his pupils yawning wide and black.

"Yep," John agrees. "You're not going anywhere for a while. Unless you want to stop," and now he spins the words with a little bit of a tease, because Rodney looks like stopping is the very last thing he wants.

"Nononono, no stopping," Rodney says, "let's... what's the plan?"

"I'm reconsidering," says John. "Maybe I'll improvise."

"Let me guess," Rodney recovers himself a little. "Improvising _was_ what you planned."

"How likely is that?" John leans to get into the repurposed low filing cabinet Rodney put by the bed and yanks the drawer open, fishing around like he's trying to decide what to choose. "Huh. Let's go with this," he shows Rodney the plug, the black one that can vibrate practically hard enough to rattle teeth. He pumps some lube into his hand and slicks up the plug and his fingers.

Rodney licks his lips and wraps his hands around the chains for leverage, hauling himself up a little, so he's propped up more on the pillows for a better view.

John pushes his legs apart decisively and adjusts the chains with a chime of metallic clinks, so that Rodney can feel their weight dragging down on the cuffs. He gives Rodney's hard-on a passing caress and slides two fingers back, teasing at Rodney's hole til he relaxes enough for John to press into him.

"Come on, give it up," John says, "push out for me, you're taking it all," and Rodney groans and opens to him a little easier, even as the muscles of his thighs jump, trying to close his legs; John plants his own knees to hold Rodney spread open.

"I don't know why you're bothering," says John, "those chains are going to hold you open even if I don't." He gets a third finger in, slides them in and out til Rodney's squirming, trying to get away and get more at the same time. The plug goes in smoothly and John seats it and gives it a tap. Rodney tenses, expecting the vibrator, but it stays off for now.

John pauses long enough to snag off his own boxers, by now dotted with a damp spot; he gives himself a stroke and Rodney sucks in a breath.

Rodney's shoulders come up off the bed as he strains as close as the chains pay out, pleading, "John, let me," trying to get to him. It's a sight. This is _definitely_ worth it.

John shoves Rodney back onto the pillows and the padded headboard and pins him there. Rodney resists with a throttled whine til John straddles him again, this time spanning his chest.

"I'm not letting you do anything," he says, "you're going to suck me, and you're not going to move. Just use your tongue and your mouth," and he takes himself in hand and glides the slippery head of his cock against Rodney's lower lip, repeating, "No moving," when Rodney tries to bend his neck to take John in.

John keeps teasing til Rodney keeps still long enough, and feeds his cock into Rodney's mouth, his balls clenching as he watches it disappear inch by inch. Rodney locks his lips around him and sucks for all he's worth, tongue rubbing the length of the shaft, flicking behind the crown.

Even without being able to bob his head, Rodney's fantastic at this, and John would get off on it even if Rodney wasn't so good, just from watching. Rodney's eyes are shut, lashes long and almost innocent-looking, a little dent of concentration between his brows, and his wide mouth is pulled tight around John's dick.

And that's even before John starts moving his hips, little thrusts into the heat of Rodney's mouth. Rodney adjusts his grip on the chains and holds tight, white-knuckled, looking even more blissed out now that John's fucking his face.

He keeps up the litany of orders, a lot of, "That's it, take more, all of it," too high on sensation to get very creative.

John pulls out before he gets too close, to a gorgeous little sound of disappointment from Rodney. He slides down Rodney's body and hears the jangle of the chains as Rodney tries to close his legs again in anticipation, and Rodney makes another pretty little noise in the back of his throat when the chains prevent it.

"Told you," John says, and despite everything Rodney opens his eyes and gives John _such_ a look, fond and exasperated with a hint of a smile, beautiful. John smiles back, goes up on his knees and reaches for Rodney's cock, positioning it, catching the moment when Rodney realizes what he's doing just before John nudges Rodney against him, into him, and lowers himself down.

"Don't move," John warns. He prepped himself before he woke Rodney up, but it's still slow going, not quite the smooth sitting-on-his-cock maneuver John envisioned when he planned this. But from the way Rodney keeps swallowing and fighting to keep from pushing up, John doesn't think he minds.

John lets himself get used to the stretch of Rodney inside him, forcing himself to stay patient, enjoying how worked up Rodney's getting from being in him and forbidden to move. Rodney turns his wrists restlessly in the cuffs, pulls at his ankle restraints, and John feels a little surge run through Rodney's dick. God, it's good.

He gives it another five count and grins at Rodney. "Okay," he says, "fuck me."

Rodney thrusts into him so fast and hard, John's bowled over by it, and for once John gives up a little control and just goes with it, rocking with the pump of Rodney's hips and the bounce of the bed under his knees. This angle isn't actually great for John, but he's hot enough from the saw of Rodney's cock in and out of his ass, the slap of skin and the bulge of Rodney's arms as he pulls harder and harder on the chains.

John licks his hand and fists himself, instantly on edge, and after just a few strokes he comes all over Rodney's belly and chest.

For a little while he's too satisfied to do anything but ride, limp as a ragdoll, letting Rodney fuck him.

He still has a plan, though, and takes back control, sitting firmly back on Rodney's dick and squeezing with his thighs to make him stop. Rodney's panting, sweating, flushed all over, probably about a second and a half from coming-- even closer because John's taking charge.

John lifts and lowers himself, fast enough to draw a gasp, and thinks the vibrator on.

Rodney's eyes fly wide open and his head slams back, his body arching, coming so hard John really does think he can feel it inside himself somehow. Rodney jerks down and up into him again with a strangled _"John,_ oh," and he collapses all at once. "Oh god."

John thinks the vibrator down to its lowest speed and grins. He probably looks as obnoxiously smug as Rodney ever has, but he's pretty sure he's earned it.

"How," Rodney swallows, "how'd you do that... a remote control?"

John taps his temple, grinning even wider.

Rodney stares, a hint of trepidation creeping in. "You got someone to make it ATA compatible?"

"It's ATA compatible, but I didn't 'get someone'. Give me some credit," John says. "I've been watching you do this stuff for six years, it'd be kind of sad if I hadn't picked up this much by now."

" _You_ did it?" Rodney gapes.

John nods, and feels the pulse of Rodney's cock in him, valiantly trying to get hard again.

"Oh my god," says Rodney. "I almost wish you told me before I got off-- I don't really think it could've been any better, but if anything could've made it better it would've been knowing that."

"Still a chance to find out," John says, clenching his ass around Rodney and feeling another pulse of response. "Like I said, I cleared you for a day off today."

" _John,"_ Rodney says again, almost breathy.

Grinning this hard is making his face hurt. John leans forward and tweaks Rodney's nipples. Rodney tries to grab his hands, forgetting about the cuffs; he yanks against the clinking chains and gasps again, giving a little whine when John licks his thumbs and rubs them insistently against Rodney's pebbled nipples.

"Ever come twice in a row this soon?" John asks. He's not sure Rodney's exactly getting hard again, but something's happening, he can feel it.

He keeps up the stimulation with his circling thumbs and thinks the vibrator up higher, and then higher again, as Rodney tosses and pulls at the cuffs and really kind of goes a little crazy. He hopes it's a good crazy, but he's a little preoccupied by the way Rodney keeps saying, "John, _John,_ oh god please," and then he arches up once more, galvanized, coming again.

This time John thinks the vibrator firmly off and waits while Rodney recovers, though John's half-hard again himself and wondering if he could go for another too; it's tempting, but he really ought to get Rodney out of the cuffs. He tried them out himself to make sure the padding was adequate, and they felt fine, but his wrists are a little more narrow than Rodney's.

"I'm gonna move," he warns, and Rodney nods weakly, with a little wave of his hand. John lifts off him while Rodney hisses, clearly sensitive. John gets the key and unlocks the wrist cuffs and each ankle cuff, returning to chafe Rodney's wrists gently. "Okay?"

"Uh-huh. Those are surprisingly comfortable," Rodney says, absent and soft, his eyes closed.

John smiles and moves to check his ankles, and then to take out the plug; Rodney's so relaxed now, it comes out easily. John kisses Rodney's knee and goes to rinse the plug in the sink.

He comes back and slips into bed next to Rodney, who immediately rolls over and throws his arm across John's chest, lips against John's shoulder. "I can't believe I got off twice like that," says Rodney. "I don't think I've done that since I was a teenager."

"I gotta admit, I wasn't even trying for that," John says. "That was all you."

"You made our _vibrator_ ATA-capable," says Rodney. "Do you have any idea how hot that is? Half my engineers couldn't do that."

"I've had a courtside seat for six years watching you slam-dunk this stuff. And the gene gives me a pretty good sense of whether I'm getting it right or not. It's practically cheating."

Rodney sits up suddenly. "Of course, the _pilot,"_ he says, jumping up out of bed to grab his tablet. "The shield functions with less power than expected because there's a pilot controlling it along with the hyperdrive-- I bet if we test it, we'll find you're varying the shield strength intuitively in response to the stresses of hyperspace in a way that Asgard tech can't replicate. And we'll probably be able to turn it around and find out more about how the ATA interface functions, too. I'm a genius. I should get a Nobel just for this!"

"If you're right." John gives him a stern look and beckons him back.

"Oh, I'm right," Rodney says, bringing the tablet back to bed. "I'm amazingly, outstandingly right, I know it."

" _If_ you're right," John repeats, "then I gave you the idea just now. And the solution's also thanks to me, since I'm the pilot. _And_ I was right that you needed to take a break from the problem to get the answer."

Rodney opens his mouth, looking thunderous, and catches himself, frowning.

John grins. "You're welcome."


End file.
